Bats and Spooks
by DarkVampire111
Summary: Joker inserts himself into Brooklyn Wayne's life in a twist only Gotham would permit. Only she sees him or knows when he's near. Her memory gaps don't help to understand his rambling or logic. And honestly, the hallucinations aren't so helpful either. Fem!Bruce
1. Chapter 1

**Bats and Spooks**

 _The last thing I heard was you whispering goodbye and then I heard you flatline_.

Characters owned by DC and Marvel

This is pretty much unattached to the other Brooklyn stories, the attachment is only ever so extremely slight, but I wanted to write it anyway. Because it's Halloween! Perfect time for creepy!

* * *

The stench attached itself to the walls of her senses to incapacitate her ability to breathe freely. It was so strong she could taste the metal on her tongue, but perhaps the taste was from the split in her lips as well. The smell is too familiar, something that has hung onto her for well over half her life. It makes her sick, makes her want to curl into a ball and never unwind again. Nothing was ever capable of washing it way. No matter how strong or expensive the perfume she splashed on her skin, under it she could always still find the rot of death.

Alfred assured her over and over again that there was no blood left on her hands, he begged and pleaded with her to come out of the shower. It took weeks before she stopped asking him if he could smell it too, smell the blood and death. It followed her forever even if she finally stopped bringing it up. The smell got worse over the years, particularly after she became the Bat. Blood was all a part of her world after that.

People died every day and someone had to be around it in order to make it stop. Someone had to offer justice to the dead even though nothing else could be offered. Getting criminals off the street meant that there would be less death. One of her teachers long ago, a master in the arts of battle, told her to embrace death because death loomed over everyone and the only way to live was to look upon it as the great equalizer of men. Make it part of you, he told her. Perhaps he could not have known that death had gotten under her skin when she was only a child, curled over the bodies of her parents. She stopped fearing death that night and instead both envied those it touched and hated it for its theft.

All was dark around her though, the aroma of death so strong she could inhale nothing else. It was nearly enough to make that little part of her that wanted to live quiver. More than that it made her scream for what she knew had been ripped from her hands once again. Loss was another thing that had taken root under her skin, parasitic and permanent. She felt the sharp ripping claws of grief, the tear of her soul that signified pieces of her heart being cleaved away. Brooke screamed around the shards of glass in her throat for she understood acutely that there was nothing more she could do. Once death took hold it would pull until everything unraveled and broke.

"NO!" She shrieked, denying it even to herself, fisting broken fingers into her blood damp hair, "Don't leave me!"

The sobs took hold, wracked from her deadened body and soul like dark waves of the ocean. Feeling was seeping out of her very slowly, everything turning dead even as the grief destroyed what was left of her shattered remains. She was always the only one left, left alone to weather an existence of misery. She never asked to be left alive if it meant the gaping mouth of loss would be a slowly building void that swallowed her. Brooke never wanted to be the only one left. It was a misery often too great to endure but it would be worse now, all-consuming.

There was so much blood.

Brooklyn's entire body jerked when lips brushed softly at her ear and she jolted into a sitting position on the bed, flinging her arms out defensively. There was no rush of adrenaline, the lack of which she attributed to her general lifestyle. Nothing really got her heart pumping anymore, she was too used to the rush of diving off buildings or into things most people would die from.

Joker jumped away, hardly seeming to make an effort, not even really touching the ground while he simpered at her, "Did I startle you, darling?"

Yes, actually, but waking up to that white face, toxic green eyes, and an impossible smile would be a rude awakening for anyone. Wayne Manor was not intended for the likes of the clown with its tasteful decor, her dark room and muted taste in color took affront to him every day. Nothing to be done about it though. His garish charm was a fixture at this point, like a gift no one ever asked for but could not get rid of because the relative that gave it visited too often.

She licked her dry lips, blinking dazedly to try to orient her mind, "What are you doing?"

With a forceful shove, she removed the pillows from either side of her, sending one of them flying at him. He annoyingly did not bother to dodge even though they both knew it would do no damage regardless. It would have been satisfying to make him react on reflex. He never feared her anyway though.

Rolling forward with a scowl, she pulled her pajama-clad knees up to her chest. She dared not sleep in anything revealing while he was around so conservative and matching it had become. For good measure, she shoved another pillow off the side of the bed. One of her more odd quirks recently had been the addition of bracketing herself in pillows the way she had when she was significantly younger. If she went to sleep as Brooke, the pillows had to be there but if she fell asleep in her Bat costume she felt no need to do that. She could not make sense of herself sometimes lately.

"Waking you from an unpleasant dream, I would say." His smile turned almost tender, as much as she thought that Glasgow smile could be, "You know I'm always there for you, Batsy... always."

She wrinkled her nose at him, "We're linked. Right, you've said that before." Tossing her legs over the opposite side of the bed, she pushed her bare feet into the plush carpet, unsure where her slippers were when the floor was littered in fluffy pillows.

"But we really are..." he whispered like he did not expect her to hear. There were times she could swear he was actually sad but she knew it was her imagination.

At times, though, fleeting moments, he seemed almost innocent, nearly gentle. Sometimes responding the only way she knew how to deal with him, harsh and unyielding, felt like kicking a puppy. He had the potential to be more than a monster, maybe even a decent human being if not for the sadistic bent of derangement. Like the time she found him in the cave.

It had been a surreal moment to see Joker stood at the very apex of the cave like some sort of beacon, glowing, or seeming to. Small bats draped and hung on his person, a few flying in lazy circles around him as if he called to them and they answered. They chattered softly, relaxedly, echoed by the ones above. None of them sounded distressed in the slightest. One very small one was cradled in his palm, being held to his chest as he watched the young thing as if the bat held the answers to the universe. She could do nothing but stare for a long while but of course, he was the one to speak.

"They've been telling me so much about you, Bats..." His voice was quiet, almost like the bat's chatter. "Bruce, here, especially. He's very observant for a young little guy."

Bruce was it? Had she told him that her parents had been intending to name her that had she been a boy? She was not exactly sure what she might have told him in some delirious moment, even of random little know facts about her history. Then again, it might have been coincidental.

"I suppose they would know best," She agreed, playing alone, keeping her voice quiet, "They see me more than anyone else."

Green jade eyes looked up at her a moment before he returned to his study.

"You know, it's never been humans that were the innocents. Humans, mankind is not innocent. Humans all have a rotten core, a bent toward evil that they either fight against or embrace with abandon. That evil core is why anyone, even those considered good, can be brought to do horrible things." He ran a finger over the tiny snout, "The real innocents are the things we call monsters. Like these little guys, their actually innocent." He motioned to the bats.

"I'm not sure if I'm hearing wisdom, something profound... or if we're both just crazy," Brooke muttered as she came closer.

Joker laughed and it was only then that the bats took flight back to the safety of the rocks. When she looked into his eyes, he looked back with what must have been the fondest look she had ever seen. "Maybe it's both?"

She always wondered how he managed to call them to him. How exactly he charmed the bats into not only perching on him but letting him hold them. Animals were generally better at understanding danger than that. They sensed dangerous people and responded by staying far away. She wondered what that said about her and the fact that they had never come close to her in all the years they had been around her. Additionally, later on, she was never sure if it really happened or if it had been nothing but a dream.

She padded into the bathroom, thoughtlessly flicking on the light only to hiss in distaste at the brightness. The meager light that filtered through the heavy curtains on her windows typically left her unprepared for the harsh reality of even the artificial light. The soft light from the moon was so much easier to endure than the glaring and rude force of other lights.

Squinting, she shuffled to the sink and began brushing her teeth. She looked like a wild woman, hair going in all directions from a night of tossing and turning. Good thing the tabloids could not see her looking like this or her reputation as a heartthrob would take a significant hit. Joker drifted in behind her, watching her like it was some kind of pay-per-view movie. She was frequently shocked at herself and the way she allowed him to get so close to her without fearing for her life.

The thing was, she did trust him in the most bizarre way possible. It was because she was that Bat that she knew he would never kill her. He found her entirely interesting and she understood that he honestly did think they shared a connection, that they were the only two like beings in the world. Just watching her go about a normal day seemed to enthrall him. Most often she found him a bit too enamored with things that were absolutely common, though, to an extent, she envied him that simpleness of those things. If she ignored who he really was he was a nearly charming companion so long as he behaved... and did not set about amusing himself by tipping over expensive and breakable things in her home. That time he threw her dinnerware at her had been particularly unamusing on multiple levels, especially since she was the one that had to clean it all up.

Having the Joker around had taken some getting used to but there was no way whatsoever to get rid of him. Threats were ineffectual and ignoring him totally lead to broken things. He had decided to invade her space and he refused to be moved. With Alfred away in England and Dick and Jason studying overseas there was significantly less risk to anyone, her included. Having him camped in her bedroom might be a significant discomfort but at least she rarely had to wonder where he was. There was less trouble he could cause so long as she knew exactly what he was up to.

"Look, Joker, I really would-" The bedroom window flew open in a sudden burst, curtains billowing wildly. Her whole body tensed, eyes widening, head snapping to look for the cause.

"Made you jump!" Joker sang theatrically at her, looking entirely more pleased than anyone ever should with a grin that size.

"Did not," she insisted as maturely as possible.

* * *

With a characteristic sway in her steps, Brooke waltzed out of the elevator to strut her way down the hall in the direction of her office. All the windows had very nice curtains over them but she found she could not remember when they had gone up. It blocked the unpleasant and unwelcome sunlight very nicely so she had no room to complain. Complaining could be saved for other things, like the way the Joker skipped loudly as he followed her, or the way he whistled annoyingly. No matter how she determined not to cringle on his higher notes, she always did.

She shifted, dropping back a fraction to block people from seeing him whenever they passed even though she understood it was an effort in futility. People offered her very tight smiles when they passed, always clutching papers or folders tightly to their chests reflexively as they sped up to go around her. People avoided her when they could lately even if they were polite about it. It always made her wonder what they were thinking, what they could see in her that made them skitter away. Was the insanity hovering near as obvious as all that? Was it Brooke they feared or was it more than that?

These days they all acted as if walking near her was like walking over a sheer of ice that could crack and send them both plummeting, like they thought they were in danger and so was she. Often she would kill to know exactly what they all knew about the last year. They might know the truth. They might know even more than she did. Then again, what they knew might be speculation and lies. There was no way to say, especially since she did not even know herself. No one knew everything, save one man.

Short gray-black curls crowned the face of weathered but still authoritatively gentle features. Lucious was still handsome and a hundred times more spellbind ing than a good half of the rest of the world without even trying. She always suspected he was devastatingly handsome when he was younger and must have had girls lining up for him. Even she found herself charmed and soothed around his manner more often than not. It was why she gave him her shares in the company, why he was more the owner than she was. She knew she could trust him the way she knew she could trust Alfred or Gordon.

"Good morning, Lucious!" She offered him genially.

"Good morning, indeed, Ms. Wayne!" He nodded to her as he slowed his progress down the hall before stopping entirely.

"How are things progressing?" She subconsciously shifted to hide the man behind her. She never wanted Fox to see Joker, and more than that, she hated Joker being near the man.

There wee so few people Brooke or even Batwoman could say she trusted but Fox was one of them. The thought of endangering any of the people she cared for, even if Joker had not made so much as a suspicious twitch toward anyone she cared for since he burrowed into her life like a parasite, it never really felt safe. It should be safe, should be, but was it? Logically she thought it was safe, all things considered, but there was always that margin of error, for that small percent of risk. It left her feeling uneasy constantly.

"Oh, very well, as usual. Points are up even from yesterday. The new release is going exponentially better than even I expected!" His voice held a good portion of his allure and it was an easy task to let it wash over a person. Trusting Lucious Fox was simple.

Joker rested his chin on her shoulder and circled her waist with his arms, "The man behind your mask, huh? No wonder no one ever figures you out. They'd have to get past him to get close to you."

Brooke found her thoughts instantly scattered like cotton puffs in the wind and she struggled to hold up her smile. "Any other news?"

"You mean, has anyone of more interest been in contact?" He nodded, watching her with those sharp, shrewd eyes.

"You always end up asking him." Joker whispered right into her ear, lips brushing the shell and making her nearly flinch, "He's going to start thinking you don't love him too."

Lucious watched her, eying Joker and the rest of the space around her to evaluate the situation, so Brooke made the effort to draw attention from her discomfort, "I mean, not that I'm worried, or anything. And it's not like you have to tell me one way or the other. Your business is your own."

She did not want him to ask if everything was 'all right' or ask if she was feeling 'well' or if she needed his 'help' because she hated when he noticed she was less than perfect. Though she understood that he knew she was probably not well, he was the one that cobbled her back together, she hated being sure he knew. Brooklyn's facade was all she had and if it dropped what was to stop more and more people from seeing too much. If they saw too much they would probably see the Bat underneath. Couldn't afford that! This was Brooke's problem, not Batwoman's! The two could never cross or she might forget which was which.

"But you have to know?" Lucious smiled like the charmer he was, "Oh, yes, I spoke with Alfred this morning, as a matter of fact. He asked after you, naturally, wanted me to remind you to eat. Said to clarify that thinking about making a sandwich did not qualify if there was no followthrough. He also told me to remind you that dust does not magically clean itself, and since you signed the house over to him years ago, he would take it kindly if he could find things underneath the dust mountains, so you might consider taking out the duster once in a while."

Brooke grinned wide and laughed honestly, "Of course he did!"

* * *

"You really do look so much like your father. It sometimes... throws me a little, when I come to this office." Regina Zellerbach's wrinkled face gained a fair few more wrinkles when she smiled sadly.

Old family friends always seemed to make those comments. Once was never enough, they had to do it again and again just on the off chance she might forget. Perhaps it was actually because they were getting on in years. Older people tended to repeat themselves rather frequently, sometimes even word for word identical to the last ten times they told the story. It was probably the age issue. Those that knew her family was older people and she was the last surviving Wayne. Maybe she should consider having her eggs frozen somewhere just to be sure there were more Wayne's in the future? Where exactly had that thought come from? Being around nostalgia was so dangerous! Why had she been an only child?

She did not want to get old. What would she do as an old woman? How could she keep up the important part of her life? Hopefully, she would go out in a blaze of glory and have all the criminals locked safely away before she got to the point where she couldn't do it anymore. With all the injuries she's had she hardly dared think just how bad arthritis would be.

Brooke smiled big and bright and fake, "You would be surprised how many people tell me that, Mrs. Zellerbach! At least I know where I get my looks."

The woman eyed her, bordering on confused, trying to decide what she must mean, "Well, I'll be going. I hope I was of help to you."

"Oh, you know you are utterly invaluable to the company! Don't fish for compliments, you know how I feel about having a friend of the family around. You're always the best!" Brooke grinned again and winked while she walked the woman to the door.

Joker stood in the corner, watching, looking serious and deducing entirely too much the way he usually did. He watched everything like a hawk if he was interested, and usually remembered too much even if he was not. She expected he might have a photographic memory. She also thought he was one of those rare and terrifying individuals that could read the minuscule changes in expression, the ones nearly invisible, and deduce even more from hem than should be possible. She knew a great many psychics managed their trade with that skill, the skill to read lies and truth from things most people never noticed they gave away. Had he ever been in a circus she would have bet money he could have made a fortune as a, well, fortuneteller?

Once she eased the door shut a burst of his cool breath tickled her ear, "It bothers you so much when they say things like that." There was no pretense of a question, just vocalized understanding. "It kills you when they bring it up. Rubbing salt in the wound every time because you never did let it heal."

Her face drifted into a more normal blankness as she faced him, "Doesn't everyone hate being compared to other people?"

"It's different with you though. You want it too much because it's all the connection you have to them, but it's not enough to satisfy that whole you never filled in. You're desperate for the approval of people that can't ever give it to you because they aren't here."

She moved past him and rounded on her desk, dutifully immersing herself in appearing focused on the papers. Joker perched himself on the desk for a minute before he decided to actively lay down and spread himself out over her desk, pinning most of the papers under his body. Fingers pressed into his shoulder, she pushed enough to get a hold of a few papers to read over before she relaxed back into her chair.

He was not wrong the way he had that uncanny ability to ferret out the weakness in others. He drove people insane because of it because he always just knew how to get under the skin of anyone. Whether it was his intelligence or his insanity that made him so good at it, she could not say.

There were times she feels the desperation to know so keenly it hurts even her body. She would give anything to know! People told her frequently how much she resembled her father, how she had his eyes, his features. She knew who she looked more like, but which one of them was she most like in other aspects? Would she have ended up like her father in more than face or would she have been more like her mother? Had they both lived, which one would she have been measured against and deemed most like or nothing like? How would things have transpired? Would she have been a mixture of the two or their antithesis? Had they been around, would they approve of her and all she turned out to be?

All she really knew was that she could not endure wearing pearls. Many men had given them to her in pretty strands that found themselves locked away in a bank. Joker had stolen some from one of her many security boxes once and she found herself intensely thankful to him for that. When she was small she thought wearing pears would be the grand signal that she was all grown up but the touch of pearls now made her physically ill.

She knew that she would never be a doctor no matter how many times she stitched herself up. While a large amount of head knowledge was there, there was something particular that a good doctor had that she never did. Her father had it in spades but whatever it was had never found a home in her. She suspected she was far too dark for it to take root. Things like that required sun to grow.

Still not knowing that answer, not being able to say which of them she might have taken most after killed her. Deep down, she knew, knew it every time she saw their disappointed faces hovering in the glass surrounding the batsuit. This was not the life they planned for their daughter. They would probably rather have seen her stand up to the world with her own face and die as they had rather than becoming a shadow.

"It's alright, Sugarplum fairy." It should have sounded mocking, but it actually sounded kind.

He rolled onto his side and reached out, running his fingertips over her cheek in a knowing sort of way, like he read every single thought as it passed her mind. When he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers she did not pull away, just let him kiss her before he rolled to his feet. It was a little awkward the way he hugged her with the chair decidedly in the way but the thought behind it was to let her know he cherished her; the underlying 'even if they would not' went unsaid.

"Why do you...?" She stopped, not sure what wording she could even use to express the question.

"Care? Linger? Stay? Bother? Love you?" His face nuzzled into her hair and he took a deep drag of air, smelling her, "Because I'm compelled to. You were my obsession at first..." He breathed her in again, "You know, they say that everyone, everyone, has something or someone they care about."

Rather lazily, he shifted her and himself until he was in the chair and she was in his lap. It should have annoyed her but she found that she oddly did not take offense to the change nor care. Over time she grew more and more used to his strange behavior, probably because he was the only true constant in her life. That might have been why she felt safe with a lunatic as well. She could no longer imagine being without him and that might have been the true reason she was so royally screwed over in the situation at hand.

"That first time I hurt you, really hurt you, and I thought I'd killed you..." he confessed low and quiet, "I realized just how badly I wanted you to live. I'd never felt fear quite like that before. I could not live without you. And when you were so broken, begging not to be left alone, I could do nothing but answer."

Brooke wrinkled her nose and looked into his glazed eyes, "When did I ever beg you to stay, exactly?"

Joker blinked and hid his face in her neck, "It doesn't matter. All that matters is us being together forever!"

"Forever is a long time." She allowed her head to rest awkwardly against his.

"I know." He sighed contentedly.

He must really believe they could be together forever, she thought. The world taught her differently as it should have taught him. Nothing is forever and nothing lasted. But that was morbid thinking, she supposed.

* * *

When she moved into her house from the garage, waving to the new driver Alfred apparently insisted on, because clearly she could not be trusted to drive herself, she went right to the house phone to see if there was a message for her. She kept a house phone the same way she kept an office phone, different numbers from her cell. It made tracking her down a bit harder if she did not want to be reached. The blinking indicated there was a message or two and she smiled fondly at the machine, hopeful that it would be from the boys or Alfred.

Once she played through a few political calls and boring business pitches, she came upon what she hoped for.

"Hey, Brooke!" Dick chimed over the speaker sounding bubbly and happy, "Just calling to let you know I'm doing great, the weather is great, the beach is great, you get the picture. All in all, doing awesome! Talk to you soon! Bye!"

With a wide grin, she saved the message. It seemed remarkably like the last message she remembered but she could not really blame him for repeating the same thing. Leaving a message was not the best place to go into a lengthy monologue. it was nice just to hear from him. It was just nice to hear his voice. She missed them all but she understood that it was better this way. What would she do if they were home while the Joker was still around? No, best for them to stay away.

"So very domestic!" Joker sidled in behind her. "You smile differently when it's them."

In a good mood now, with him at her back, she leaned into him in a show of contented trust she almost never showed, "Something wrong with that?"

He was pleased, she could tell by the way he puffed up like a happy balloon. "You know how I hate to share. Now! How about a horror movie marathon?"

"Isn't living with you a full-time horror movie?"

He spun her around, fingers sinking deep into her hair, huge hands cupping her skull like he might be readying to crush it even if there was no pain, "The jokes are my department, Fairy princess!"

"They are?" She deadpanned, "I never noticed."

His jaw dropped theatrically wide, "Excuse you! News flash, I have feelings and you just hurt them!"

She put a finger to his nose and cooed at him, "I'm sorry, I guess the rumors were wrong, my mistake."

Joker pulled her head in to tuck under his chin, sniffing at her hair with a purr, "You're so beautiful when you're being mean!"

"Excuse you, Sir! I'm always beautiful!" She put on her socialite Gala voice for the occasion.

There was another purr as he circled her in his arms and lifted her off her feet, "That's true! Can't argue that, unless it's early morning before you get coffee. Or when you wore that fall sweater the other day."

She swatted his arm and was struck by the familiarity they had fallen prey to, like some old couple but she covered her shock and discomfort quickly, "If you want horror movies I'm going to require cocoa."

"Not pumpkin spice lattes? Tis the season, you know!" He asked casually, still carrying her like a toddler might carry a large cat.

"Are you going to go get me one?" She arched a derisive brow.

"Did I ever tell you," he grinned and giggled, "about the time I moonlighted as a barista? How about I make you my specialty? It calls for latte, pumpkin, white chocolate, maybe some vanilla, and a dash or two of bat wings."

"Very funny! Don't quit your day job."

"You are my day job, noon, break time, night, all of them. You're a full-time job! " He jostled her intentionally, swinging her legs like a pendulum, "Have I tricked you into having fun yet or do I need to find a mountain of dead leaves to throw you in?"

Brooke rolled her eyes, almost laughing as he brought her into the kitchen until she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She pushed herself out of his arms and raced to follow what she had seen. She nearly skidded when she saw the pools of blood leading down the hallway, her breath stuttering in her chest, but she knew she had seen Alfred walking this direction. The need to find him was suddenly all-encompassing and she screamed his name in panic, breaking into a full sprint she only used as the Bat.

She tracked the bloody trail, the smears of bloody hands on the walls, until she reached his room. She flung open the door with another shriek of his name, the stench hit her instantly, followed by the wave of blood crashing into her legs. The room was filled with blood a few feet deep and it ran out the open door, sloshing around her and down the hall like a flood. She could not breathe but she also could not stop screaming.

Stumbling, she surged forward, the carpet sloshing wet under her sodden feet, "Alfred!"

Strong, strong hands took her by the shoulders and whirled her around, Joker's face filling her vision, "Fine, Brookie, you win, hot cocoa it is, babe!"

She gripped desperately at his wrists, realizing then just how badly she was shaking, "Alfred's hurt! There's blood!" Her voice was raw from the volume of her screaming.

"No, no, he's fine, he's safe, darling! He's on vacation, remember?" His hands cupped her face, thumbs rubbing her cheeks to keep her looking at him, "No horror movies, ok? How about some chick flicks or maybe some old comedy shows, hmm?"

"The blood!" She whispered desperately.

"Ms. Wayne!" The young man, her driver, she remembered, stumbled into the room, chest heaving.

Brooke looked at him, that young face staring back with honest worry. Her eyes took in the lack of smeared blood on the wall behind him and she lowered her gaze to the floor, the clean, spotless floor. Joker let her go and she sank her fingers into the dry carpet, though she had no idea when she had gotten on her knees but he was kneeling with her.

"Are you alright?" The driver, Steve? asked.

"Yes. No. I- of course, I was..." Her voice sounded like she had been smoking for fifty years, though not like the Bat. "I tripped. But I'm fine." She stood quickly and hurried out the door, shutting it behind them all.

"Now leaf us to our business, young man!" Joker sniffed indignantly and took her hand, leading her away.

She caught herself a second before scolding Joker for being rude, instead smiling back at the driver, "Thank you for checking on me! So sorry to have pulled you away from your tasks."

He looked wary but smiled at her anyway before he hurried back the way he must have come. There was no resistance in her body as Joker lead her back down the hallways, she let herself be content. She was seeing things, hallucinating. Even if the man she was with was crazy, well, at least he seemed to have a better grasp on things than she did currently.

"Is insanity contagious?" She asked him playfully even though in the back of her mind she is curious why he did not ask her what she saw as if he already knew.

"Nah, it just likes to bounce around. Invade sanity's territory and ruffle some feathers for a while when given the chance."

* * *

Brooke's fingers flew over the keys, eyes focused and intent on her work while her companion did lord knew what. She heard no sounds of breaking so she assumed it must not have been too terrible a thing he was preoccupied with. The farther away he was from her, the less harm he could do anyway. The was both a blessing and a curse, one he explained to her once but she forgot a large portion of the details. Either way, Gotham was safe because she had a handle, a leash, on The Joker. Thankfully!

The office door swung open and for a horrible moment, she feared she miscalculated and the man had done something terrible after all, but no. Susan walked primly to the desk and set out a stack of papers, neatly organized and color coded. Efficient as the day was long, that woman! Once upon a time she had even been significantly more friendly. There was a time once where they would chat, have a conversation past the clipped answers she received now. What changed, she often wondered, and why did the woman seek to escape so swiftly?

Susan was nearly back out the door when Brooke called to her. The stiff way she stopped and turned back around was telling to how much she wanted to be out the door.

A few weeks ago she had accidentally intercepted a call Susan made on her line to Fox. It was clearly only the tail end of things and she had opened her mouth to pardon her self but stopped.

"I still don't see how this arrangement-" Susan was cut off abruptly.

Lucious had on his business voice, "If you can't handle working for Ms. Wayne, if you don't feel capable of doing your job, I will find someone else that will."

"No, no!" Susan hurried to put in, sounding dejected, "I can do it."

"That is good to hear. Good, trustworthy employees are always nice to hold onto."

The conversation had ended just that soon. She could only guess some of her more neurotic tendencies had been showing steadily. After that, she endeavored to be more careful to hide all her decided issues. Batwoman had enough problems without Brooke adding insanity to the public list of things they said about her day face. There was no way to explain what had been going on, at least none that would satisfy anyone.

Brooke turned on the Wayne charisma, letting her features be expressive and welcoming.

"I don't suppose Dick or Jason have called recently?" Brooke asked casually, putting that long-suffering note of parental annoyance into it.

Susan smiled instantly, tight and forced, shifting her weight from foot to foot, "Oh, yes! Actually, Dick left you a message from the both of them. He said the trip was going very well and wanted to assure you their studies abroad were coming along quite well."

Brooke brightened a bit, smiling more, "That's good to hear! I trust they are doing well so long as Dick can keep Jason in line."

Susan laughed like it was a bad joke, but a joke she had to find amusing because it was the boss, "Of course."

"Don't worry too much about the boys, Brookie, baby. Worry about me! The poor, neglected poltergeist!" Joker eased into her lap, materializing slowly into being.

The feeling of his cold body made her shiver, but she could hardly respond when someone was watching, not without the crazy rumors gaining momentum. He was heavy considering he was supposed to be intangible. No one but Brooke could see him so they would never believe her. Most of the time she did not totally believe it.

It got easier and easier to believe when he broke things that had to be cleaned up though. He told her not long ago that ghosts had goals too; proving a thing or two to skeptics. It was no fun making a believer believe, what was the point, he said, and she could see that.

"That will be all, thank you, Susan," Brooke told her sweetly, only to have Joker sing-song the words in echo, waving theatrically to the woman as she left.

* * *

Joker comes alive at night, breathes in the air like it's candy to his lungs. The night unfetters him the way daylight cages him. He surprised her the first time he announced he was coming with her on patrol, jumping into the unused Robin suit, making it come to life with him.

That had been near the beginning of his inserting himself into her life and she had been hard to convince. "Tough crowd" he'd muttered.

Aside from the hair and the smile, remarkably, he could pass for Robin. She made adjustments; a hood, a second mask to cover the smile and all but a tiny sliver of his face, and a sort of collar that could change his voice to a very close proximity, and they were set.

She had her reservations about letting him accompany her but she really did need someone to stand in for Robin to at least cover the potential of anyone noticing Jason was gone the same time Robin was. After the first night went without issues she decided to not only run with the idea, but also to make him a Nightwing impersonator as well with the same adjustments. To keep people from noticing anything particularly amiss, she added a lower jaw portion to her own mask.

Joker did not fight the way a former acrobat would but he did a fair imitation, convincing enough that no one questioned it. The voice change went a very long way to cover things even though he laughed significantly more often than the genuine article.

He was vicious in a fight but he adhered to her rules, never taking that killing step, just getting a lot of blood everywhere. Criminals were more wary of Robin and Nightwing suddenly, and she did not blame them.

Instinct always had people shying away from Joker in any setting and that did not change even when he was in costume because most people stuck with their gut reactions. Killers were killers even if they stopped killing, the danger never went away. No one could see the lunatics eyes but somehow there was a glitter anyway, that manic, frightening thing peeking out.

Joker crouched on the rooftop beside her, staring at the dangling criminals swaying helplessly by the cables until officers would arrive to take them away. He panted, nearly shaking, but not from exertion, from the rush. "Batsy!" the Nightwing mask breathed at her, he just kept panting, like a gleeful dog, "I'm finally starting to understand why you do this. Don't get me wrong, I still like my way better, but there is a charm to what you do too."

Brooke did not answer but she looked into his face, tempted to peel the mask away enough to see the one animating it.

"What I do is an art! It's canvas with a blade rather than a brush... this, this is art like a spider's web. Strings and glittering traps, exacting your will, demeaning the ones you catch! Leaving them alive to writhe and squirm! Exerting your power, letting them know exactly who the alpha really is! It's poetry, Bats! I'm a painter and you are a poet! Palet knife to your pen! That's what it is! It fits doesn't it?"

What could she say? Nothing. And sometimes it was horrifying to listen to Joker talk in Dick's voice. It felt undeniably wrong for him to speak gleefully of murder while in Nightwing's armor.

"You grasped something few ever master! Even I typically can't get this one right, and if I know the punchline won't fly, I don't do it. You though!" He was undeniably high, so far into manic he was buzzing with it, "You mastered the delicate balance. You know how to leave them alive but make it as much a death as slitting their throat. Leaving them alive has to be done just so or they will be grateful, won't suffer for it. There is torture in leaving them alive, maybe a worse torture. Ring the life out of them but stop just short, take everything, everything, set it all ablaze, and let them live to know you took it away. All their work, it belongs to you. Alive to languish and know that they will always fail no matter how desperately they struggle!"

With a swift motion, he jerked the lower half of his mask down, lunging and pressing his lips to the spot her lips would be under her own mask. He scrabbled for the clasp on her mask desperately even though he had not waited for it to come away to kiss her. Once he got it off he kissed her again with just as much desperation. Once again she said nothing but she did not pull away either, mentally struggling to decide what response she should offer.

After a moment he sighed contentedly and slid his face to rest in the crook of her neck, nuzzling. "You're like the moon to my werewolf, Bats! I'm your wild, rabid lunatic, but I'm yours..." he licked a line up her chin to emphasize the comparison, she guessed.

"It's cold out. We should go home." Clearly she almost bought into his dog act too because she nearly gave him a pat on the head, stopping her hand halfway. Still, out of all the things she could have said, she went with pathetic copout subject avoidance. She needed a new playbook. At least she stopped the derogative pat on the head.

Joker grinned wickedly like he knew anyway, "How to kill the mood 101."

A swift fastening of her mask half back into place and she was sweeping away, cape fluttering dramatically. After a second or two of watching her, he did the same and followed after her.

What else could he really do though? No one else could even see him. She had no idea how he even died! For all she knew, she killed him. It almost felt cruel, dragging him around. She would have been kinder to a dog. This almost felt like Stockholm syndrome. It chaffed at her, made her feel sick. Never had she asked to be anyone's master.

"Don't be like that." He mumbled from behind her, and she has to mentally filter his real voice in, "This was my choice, mine!" It was close to a growl, "Don't play the guilty party where it doesn't fit. This was what I wanted, I wanted to have you, no matter how it had to be. I'd rather spend my life with you than anyone else in the world! I don't care who sees me since the only one, only one that ever mattered was you! You made me love you, and with me, it's not a tame monster Heh! I put myself in a cage with you because it's all I ever wanted... but I'll always be wild, Batsy, so not much has changed."

Brooklyn Wayne and even Batwoman had no idea what to do with that level of devotion. Whatever he felt, whether it was a normal human emotion or not, he felt it with more depth than anyone she knew of. He was an empty chasm, except when he wasn't. He really was chaos and passion, eccentricity itself mixed into psychosis. Danger in every breath, but he held it back at her bidding, let her be in control. She knew he allowed it, knew her control over his disastrous touch was an illusion because no one could really control chaos, they could only direct it if it wished to submit.

Impulsively, she reached back and took his hand. What else was she supposed to do with him? Ignoring him never worked out well but her own emotions were too bottled up to just let them spill out the way he did. She physically could not let go the way he did, could not allow even a sliver of freedom into her actions. Emotions were a luxury even she could not afford.

She had no idea how to live in the moment. Tiny gestures were all she could manage on her own. When he took the first steps it was easier, but initiating anything was so close to impossible for her.

He could speak his mind and she could not. Calling her a poet was irony. He could flow and she stood still. Distance to his up close. Perhaps they instinctively balanced each other. Whatever the other was, or what they needed, that was what the later would be. Was that why he'd seemed more sane lately?

She never thought she needed Joker, but these days she started to understand that he had needed her for a long time. Maybe, at this point in her life, she must have needed him too. She knew that need must have sprouted while she had been away, in that space of time she had forgotten, but it did not matter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bats and Spooks**

 _Don't you dare surrender_  
 _Don't leave me here without you_  
 _Cause I could never replace your perfect imperfection_

* * *

Batwoman landed smoothly on the rooftop, cape billowing around her, muffling the sound the way the wings of an owl soften the sound of their approach; something Lucious worked into the cape design a year ago. She would be far less mysterious without that man and far less effective. Thankfully, she had good people on her side. She was a symbol, more idea than reality, but it was her support system that kept her that way.

Stood beside the Bat-signal was one such supporter, the man that probably gave her more hope than most, the first man she let herself trust when he picked her up out of an alley many, many years before the Bat existed.

"Commissioner." She greeted simply, sliding from the cover of darkness as she usually did. He hated it but it always held a little pleasure for her, so she did it anyway.

No matter how many times she sneaked up on him, he always jumped just slightly, the barest reaction, "Hey... thanks for the help the other night. Those guys sang like canaries once the DA got down here. We've got plenty of evidence thanks to your help." He grinned suddenly, eyes lighting up with a secret, "You and Nightwing did a great job. I saw you two leaving the scene."

No wonder he looked so smug. How much of that encounter had he or the other officers seen? She would never ask and the silence was often a good enough motivator to get people to elaborate.

Jim looked positively smug, almost proud or simply pleased, "I think I understand what the falling out you two had a few years back was about now. I always knew he started the rift but I assumed he just needed to find his own feet, I didn't realize it had anything to do with his developing feelings for you. I'm glad you've really... patched things up!"

She refused to respond to that!

"How old is he anyway?"

Batwoman nearly gaped at him, only just managing to control it.

"Sorry, sorry!" He must have noticed anyway, "It doesn't matter. They say it's actually better for women to marry younger men anyway! He's plenty old enough now. I'm actually glad for both of you! You deserve someone that can understand you, can support you. I'm glad you found one, honestly! I already swore Moralez to secrecy, don't worry!"

How were they having this conversation? How was this her life? How was she supposed to explain this to Dick when he returned home? Batwoman swallowed, trying to find some graceful way out of this. She had intended to tell him she found some lesser-known hero to take his place for a while until he returned but if people thought they were involved, how was she supposed to explain that? He was going to kill her! They would have another 'falling out' once that news hit the fan! At least they would not have to fake a breakup.

"Who's the new Robin anyway?" He ventured, clearly not swayed.

New Robin? Did he mean Tim Drake? He had very little training yet and she almost never let him out as Robin. She had sent him to school as well, promising to train him more in time. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, "Oh, right, secret, I wasn't thinking before I asked. I just noticed you had a new one again. Bullock... uh, was there that night too, just so you know. I had to threaten to demote him if he spread a word of his theory."

"What theory?"

Jim shifted from pleased to uncomfortable, she had noticed the discomfort creeping in over time, "Well, after you and Nightwing... seemed to be closer than you used to be, and you have another Robin around..." He looked all the way to the other side of the roof at that point, "Bullock said you like them young and raise them up for later."

"Excuse me!" For once, her bat-voice gained a rather high pitch.

Gordon looked at her then, shocked, "I shouldn't have told you! Sorry..." he looked guilty though, "you don't, right? I'm not really saying you do, I just-"

Batwoman advanced, using her usual stance of intimidation, "How could you tell the Robins were different? I specifically changed the suit design-" she pointed to the lower portion of her own mask, "to hide the differences! I made sure no one would be able to tell when the Robins switched places, or when Nightwing switched places!"

"There are two Nightwings?" He scratched his chin thoughtfully, "That matches up with the differences I noticed." He looked at her speculatively, "There more of you too?"

She glared at him from under the mask, "No. But I want to know who else noticed!"

Jim did not seem even remotely afraid of her show of anger, "No one that I know of. I haven't heard anyone mention it."

Batwoman spun on her heels, ready to leave.

"Why so many?" He asked more quietly, thick mustache hiding the movement of his lips.

"Because," her steps hitched, "they need lives of their own. They need a chance to live normally once in a while."

"Now that you say it, I guess I have noticed Nightwing behaving differently lately. I always knew you had to have a network, I just didn't consider you'd have more than a few sidekicks, but it makes sense." He tapped his knuckles against the side of the enormous light, "You love him? The new guy?"

Her sharp look made him grin again, "I know, I'm prying into your life. Indulge an old man? You're like a daughter I never knew I had sometimes, so I meddle. You think they need lives and I think you deserve one too."

The tapping of his knuckles reminded her that she came for more than a chat, "What's the problem? You turned on the signal." She tried not to sound brisk.

"Right," he picked up a stack of folders that he'd set on the hinge of the light and handed them over, "I need you to track someone down. We have evidence he is connected to the Wayne case. He goes by Tadija, or in some cases, Taliesin. We couldn't touch him even if we found him considering we would never get him extradited."

More good news, she knew that without opening the folder. The night kept getting better! Somehow she was feeling sick all over just at the sound of the name of her self-appointed 'beloved.' The worst possible mistake of her life, getting involved with that man, the son of her greatest enemy. When she made mistakes they were extensively large. She might actually vomit.

"I'll look into it." Batwoman turned to leave but paused when Gordon called her.

Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyes moving over random objects to avoid looking at her, "I never said it before, but I'm sorry about Wayne."

Batwoman could do nothing but stare at him for a beat or two, fighting to keep her expression lax, "What?" That should be vague enough considering she had no idea what he meant.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, toeing the gravel of the roof, "I know you two were friends. I guessed you had to be when she helped you out on some cases. The more gadgets you got over the years... I guess it just seemed... At first, I just thought she might be backing you financially, supplying you with technology to help you keep Gotham safe. It made sense and I understood why both of you would play that close to the chest, keep her and you safer. But when you sent her in on that Hugo Strange case, I knew you two were closer than I assumed originally."

Batwoman said absolutely nothing, frozen in place, hardly able to breathe for so many reasons. She always knew he was smart, and the conclusions he had drawn really were logical. The human mind tended to stick close to what it believed were established facts, and everyone knew for a fact that Brooklyn Wayne was a rich girl that could never last in anything but a social battle. He drew the only connection that would make logical sense to the mind. Brooke was backing Batwoman because Wayne's always protected the city with their money and power.

"I thought... someone should tell you, honestly, that what happened to her was not your fault. I know you did everything you could to find her. I know it has to bother you, seeing her now, but it just isn't your fault. She made her choices, she did what she felt was right to protect Gotham, just like you, and I know she understood the risks. The Wayne family always seems to pay too high a price for the good they do... but honestly, I doubt they would ever back down ."

Batwoman nodded and made to grapple away, instead she nearly swallowed her tongue when a voice asked, "Sooooo do you?"

"What?" She had a nice range of witty responses tonight.

Joker, impersonating Nightwing, shrugged casually, "He asked if you loved 'the new guy' and I noticed you never answered."

"How long have you been here?" She snarled.

Another shrug, "You two were so intent on your conversation that I felt it wrong to interrupt." She could tell, even with the mask, that he was grinning.

This time she did take that dive, almost before thinking to pull out her hook too.

"Don't you just hate it when she does that?" Joker mused, watching her go.

"Mhmmm!" Gordon mumbled as he made for the stairs, "But I think she answered more questions tonight than she has in all the years I've known her, so she's making progress."

* * *

Brooke always pretended not to notice when Joker crawled into bed with her. She knew how to control her breathing and seem very much asleep or unconscious depending on the case at hand. For a murdering psychopath, he seemed to enjoy cuddling close to her. She always noticed he had no sense of personal space or boundaries but she never equated that in her mind to his pension for snuggling in under the blankets with her. Even when she had the pillows around her, he simply wormed his way in between the barriers.

Close was also seemingly not enough for him. He might be wedged right up against her, but halfway through the night, he would deem that not good enough, repositioning until he was essentially laying on her. Even when she took to sleeping on the couch, it never helped. Joker would lounge on the back of the couch until he decided she was sleeping and make his move to invade her space. By morning he would have returned to the back of the couch, but she was not fooled.

He reminded her of a cat. Openly aloof at times, but when no one was watching, the affection suddenly flowed. He also liked to suffocate her the way a cat would to a sleeping owner. Sometimes she woke up wondering why she was fighting so hard for breath only to discover it was very much his fault.

On this occasion, he was not even trying to hide his approach after she climbed under the blankets. He slid in behind her, acting as the big spoon, curling up around her like he grew new arms just for her.

"I've been thinking!" He announced.

"That's never good." She muttered against the cool skin of his arm.

He ignored her, "I need a suit of my own! We can modify one of those old ones you keep in the back and I can be a new... whatever I'd be. I was thinking, White Knight for your Dark Knight! We'd go together like peanut butter and jelly!"

"White is not at all conducive to our work, you would stand out like a glow in the dark decoration!"

"Oh, because red, green, and yellow are so great for darkness! I never did understand why you let him go around like that if he was supposed to be stealthy!" He retorted snarkily.

"His cape was black and he knew how to use it. White is worse than those colors any day. It literally reflects any light that hits it. It's why white cars are better in the summer."

"Fine, fine! But what do you think about this one? I was thinking; Jack of Clubs and I could carry a club around! You know, make it punny!" He vibrated with a laugh. "Always right beside my queen. Don't you think that's great? Maybe you could make a second costume too! Queen of Diamonds maybe? Hearts would be cliche, but it would need to be a red card."

She decided that might be a good time to pretend to be asleep.

"Or," he went on, "if we just coated the outer parts of the suit black, leaving the inside white, I could still be the white knight! How would you feel about a dark purple outer coating instead of black? That way I could be the white bat! Batman to your Batwoman! Ultimate power couple! Terrors that flap in the night! Can't you just picture it!"

Really time to be asleep!

"Batsy!" He whined, intentionally wiggling to shake the bed up and down, "Don't play dead, I know you can't fall asleep with me talking right in your ear!"

* * *

Brooke was mainly tuned out while Lucious and some stick of a young man that looked like he spent his entire school career in a library. The man had been around before, she remembered that but she remembered very little else, not even his name or company. It seemed she always tuned him out. For all she knew she might tend to sleep through his visits like she was tempted to do now. It had been a long night with another drug cartel on the rise.

Lucious did not seem to care for him and neither did Joker. The knife danced over and through those dexterous fingers and she wondered what this man did that made Joker want so badly to do him harm. The way Fox spoke to him she would believe that he was crooked in whatever it was that he did. It might be worth a look but that would mean she needed his name.

It was hard not to yawn until he said something that woke her right up.

"How much did you know about The League of Shadows, Ms. Wayne?" Who was this guy? He worked for another company, right?

Joker tensed, a deep growl rumbling in his whole body, "Don't answer, it's a trap!" He moved closer, eyes fixed and still growling like a guard dog.

Brooke laughed like an actress, "Enough to stay away from people with a horrible sense of taste! Who could hold their heads up under such a silly sounding banner? I believe I've more pride than that." Why was her body buzzing suddenly, tremors starting to show in her fingers? Gordon did say he thought Rees' son was involved in whatever happened to her, not that she could find the files now.

"You must know why they targetted you." He persisted, sounding annoyed.

Luscious stood suddenly, "Well, that's all we really have time for." The smile was more a threat than she would have expected him capable.

The bespectacled young man turned an unimpressed stare on Fox, "You can't shield her forever! Eventually, she has to face the truth."

"She's not ready!" Luscious snapped with surprising ferocity.

"Don't listen to them, Brooklyn, just listen to me!" Joker knelt in front of her, so close, but all she could focus on was his use of her given name. He'd never called her that before.

"Jason Todd died two years ago in an accident! Everyone knows that!" The man seemed irate, waving his hands like a conductor, "It makes everyone crazy the way she can't face reality!"

"That's enough!" Lucious hissed through gritted teeth.

Joker grabbed her hands and tugged her quickly from the room but the man followed the retreat like he was hunting her. "The longtime butler to the Wayne family was killed a few months after you were kidnapped by the League of Shadows, as was Richard Greyson, your longtime ward! It's tragic, but it's reality! If you intend to run this company, Wayne, you need to live in the real world! Stop being so weak! A woman should not be in charge of such a large company! They are too addle minded!"

Brooke jerked free of the Joker and spun, a sort of rage taking hold of her, one she could not even place, but it told her to sink her teeth into his neck and _rip_. Everything in her took her to kill. It was wholly unfamiliar, like being swallowed in toxic gas she could not identify and cold not name.

Lucious grabbed the man's arm and spun him around, "Where are you from? The dark ages! What right do you have to judge her or anyone! You think you have some right to judge her for weakness when you've probably never even seen a tragedy in your miserable little life? I'd like to see you live through watching your parents die in front of you, then watch the last bit of family you have in the world snatched away too, then see how well you hold up, you pathetic little-"

Brooke never intended to scream, "Liar! They're not dead! They're studying! Alfred is on vacation!" It was she that spun him around next, her hands clutching the front of the nameless man's shirt as she shook him like a rag doll, "Bloody liar! They're fine!"

His eyes were so wide, even frightened, the kind of fear low level thugs offered when Batwoman swooped in. It was familiar, this posture. Did she seem so weak now? A backhand to his cheek sent him right to the ground.

What was new was the desire to follow him down, sink her fingers under his ribs and pull until they snapped. Something was happening inside her, something was stirring, like a terrible storm. Things inside her vibrated with need, the need to claw and bite and shred. Her lips wanted to pull back even though her jaw was clenched tight, throbbing. Something was happening to her and she could not name it.

Joker came up behind her, both arms coiled around her like twin bands of metal, "No, no, not here, babe!" He whispered roughly in her ear, "If you want him, I promise we'll get him, but not here! Have to wait till no one's watching!"

Brooke's body relaxed in that tight hold and she shook her head, "It's fine. Everything is fine. They are fine! I just talked to Dick a few days ago. They're fine, fine, just fine, finefinefinefine." So why was she seeing blood, why did she remember blood, chains, screams, wide, familiar eyes staring at her, the smell, "Oh, God, they're fine! No!"

Her hands were in her hair, pulling, nails sinking into her scalp, but Joker tightened his hold, "That's right, pumpkin! They're fine! Just keep saying it. Come on, they're fine, they're fine, nothing is wrong, everything is fine, they're fine. Nothing bad happened. Everyone is safe and fine."

And she did, she repeated after him over and over again until the blood faded from her vision and the need to destroy simmered low. Only then did she notice Lucious and several other people gathered around her. They looked worried, decidedly worried. She couldn't even see the little man anymore. The tree fur the forest. They were saying things she could not manage to hear through the pounding in her ears.

"I need to go." Brooke made a mad dash for a window, planning to throw aside the curtain and dive away to a safe place, a quiet, blood-free place.

She needed to fly and clear her mind. That always worked. Diving away from danger and unpleasant conversations. Frantic protests erupted behind her but she refused to listen. It was Joker that stopped her.

He threw himself in front of the window like a traffic cop, "No, Brookie, darling! Don't go into the light! You don't even have your wings."

Her pause was long enough to bring many hands to tug and pull her in a new direction. She dazedly insisted that she needed to leave and they surprisingly agreed with her. Joker worked his way into the crowd and put both arms around her, walking awkwardly behind her. The clouds in her mind started to lift until she was ready to assure everyone that she was perfectly well and did not need the sheer amount of assistance simply to go to her car. Once she realized she nearly went out a window she also assured them she had simply forgotten where the door was and had never intended to go through an extremely high window. That one they ignored.

Joker never let go but he cackled, talking to himself, "I'm suddenly reliable? Heh, what a punchline! But one of us has to be the sane one in this relationship."

* * *

On the car ride home, she made sure the keep the divider between the driver and her section closed firmly. If she intended to have a conversation with Joker she would need to be sure no one saw her seemingly talking to herself. Even if she told them she was simply conversing with a ghost she highly doubted it would do her any great favor. Her mind was clear once again, perhaps more than it had been in a while. She found she felt more logical and in control of herself. The violent need to kill might have sobered her up, and she knew, even past the shaking in her hands, that it was time to ask questions.

"What killed you, Joker? Was it me?"

He tilted his head far to the side to rest it against the window, "What makes you think I'm dead? What makes you think you broke your rule?"

"I wanted to kill that man but you stopped me. You knew something was wrong with me..." at the point she hesitated, unsure she could take it farther, but she knew she would, "You also know what happened during the time I don't remember."

His toxic green eyes shifted from her to look out the heavily tinted window, "Oh, darling, the mind is a tricky thing. It protects itself better than any computer defends against a virus. If you don't remember it's for a reason. Why not leave it that way? You always go back to this even if I tell you."

She frowned, "You've told me before?"

"Yes. And you never remember later. Don't you wonder why you're not more curious, more consumed with your usual need to know? It's because you already know but you don't want to." He sounded strangely resigned, unlike himself

"If I'm just going to forget, why not answer?"

"Because it's never been pleasant in the between times. You do things you shouldn't." She was surprised he had not looked at her again.

"Maybe I'll do better this time," She offered.

"You never do." Finally, he looked at her, serious in total for once, "Why ask if I promise you it's better this way?"

"Because I'm stubborn." She stated simply.

He chuckled but it was short, "I'll give you that one, you are immovable when you wanna be."

"So give in and tell me?"

Planting elbows on knees, he leaned forward and looked so deep into her eyes it was a little frightening, "You know how I always used to try to bring you to my way of thinking? Break you?"

She nodded, smirking, "It never worked no matter how many times you tried."

"That's because I knew it had to be done right."

Brooke arched a brow, "Done right? And how would that be, exactly? The way you were? In chemicals? Doubt I'd live through that the way you did."

He shrugged, smiling slightly, "I am a special case. You can't recreate perfection, so no."

"Then what did you plan on? Killing me? You tried that enough times too."

Joker sighed, "I admit, I tended to let my temper get hold of me, but I always regretted it. Every time I almost got you, that instant," he ran his fingers over his eyes in agitation, "when I thought you'd be lost, I regretted it, tried to take it back if I could. In the end, I never wanted it, could not endure it if you went first, if I lost you."

He looked at her, eyes dilated with real emotion in them she would not have foreseen, "I'd never let you be lost, Batsy, not if I could stop it! You know that, right?"

It took a long time for her to force out the words stuck in her throat, "Was I lost, Joker? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Maybe all you need to know is... I gave you, freely, willingly, what they couldn't even with all those experiments."

"What?" She blinked at him, wide-eyed and with that feeling inside her like something was shying away just like he said she would.

"Life. A beating heart. Choices. Freedom and beautiful individuality. You were always color in a black and white world, darling, but now you're every color, just like me. We're both different from anything else now. You are my only chain and I don't mind."

"What did you do?" She breathes, suddenly frightened the way she should not be able to be anymore, "What are we if we're not like anyone else?"

"We're joined." He reached out and took her hand, "I shared what keeps me alive with you, and now it keeps us both."

Brooke started to stand up but was stopped by the tug on her hands and the memory that she was in a car, "Are we dead? Is that, somehow, why only I can see you?"

"Neither of us is dead," he soothed, rubbing his thumbs into her palms, "I just gave up my human body so you could have what kept it together. My metaphysical aspects are all just fine. Believe me, I never would have let you go. I always planned to do something so you could never leave me, I just didn't expect it to be this way is all, or this soon. I'd never let you leave! We have a destiny!"

"What are... what are you?" Brooke asked, wishing she could stop herself.

He shrugged one shoulder offhandedly, "Most would call me a fae or a changeling. Part Pooka, part sluagh, or something like that. Hard to say with things the way they are these days and my mind as it also is. Either way, I'm part of the Unseelie. Chaos and discord rule the universe and I am a vessel of chaos. Fae don't see things like humans but... we can fit in. Technically, with what we both are now, we're not supposed to be friends, but I never was much for rules."

It felt like being strangled to ask, but she had to, "What am I then, that would make us more of an enemy than we always were?"

Asking made her head spin and her eyes pulse inside the sockets. Part of her knew the answer already and that part did not care to let the secret go free. He must have told the truth, she did know, she did forget.

Joker regarded her for some time before he moved out of the seat across from her and into the one beside her, "They made you like Tadija..." he smiled sardonically and shook his head, "or, no, they made you into a new Ris, a new Ghoul's head. They tormented and murdered you before the different clans within the League forced you back with various vitae to recreate you, make the childer of Ris, allowing her to pass on the title to you. The title must be passed to a strong, driven, powerful woman like you, and you were the 'chosen one'. Lucky you!" His voice turned to a low snarl, his hold on her tightening,

"But then it got worse! When I found you, I knew what they'd done." He let go only to begin petting her face and hair, "They crossed that delicate line between breaking and shattering... a line I never wanted to see you cross, darling. They did it all wrong! They took away who you were! They destroyed you! So... I chased them all away and I... fixed it."

"What are they?" There was that smell sinking into her senses again, the glimpses of blood-spattered of pooling, and she grabbed hold of him to quell the shaking running through her body, "Am I like you then?" She should not believe him but something inside her was beginning to understand. "How did they break me? Did you make me forget?"

Joker leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, "At first I made you forget, but after that it was you. They killed you, they ruined you, I couldn't let you stay that way!"

"What happened? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" Her voice was shrill, unlike herself, but she remembered blood covered ground and frightened eyes staring at her, waiting, "What did I do? What are they? Tell me!"

Brooke never noticed the car had stopped but she did notice the door open when the interior lights clicked on. The lights from the garage were dull and yellow. She never saw the sun anymore. They always pulled into a garage and windows were always covered. She only went out into the real air, under a real sky at night. It had been that way long before her memory vanished, but never so extensive. She never cared for daylight but this was different. The car windows were so tinted the sun was nothing but a thought.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" She whispered.

"Dead?" The driver stammered, "N-no, no Ms. Wayne!"

She stopped listening to his stammering, as she stumbled drunkenly from the back seat of the limo. Her head was spinning and she felt like vomiting, like gouging her own eyes out, puncturing her eardrums. Anything to make the screams go away and get rid of all that red. The hallucinations made more sense now. Seeing the blood in the halls had not been the first time, nor the blood in Alfred's room. She had seen Jason's broken body before, dead eyes staring up at her, a crowbar discarded near him. She had rounded a corner in the house to find pools of blood that lead to Richard's body. She could nerve go near their rooms, not without hearing terrible sounds. The nightmares she had every night began to seem more cohesively linked.

"You're not dead! I took care of that! You're heart beats, you're alive! And you're not bound to them! You're as free as a bird!" Joker assured her quickly, following after her.

Joker killed Jason. She remembered now. He was not off in some school enjoying life, he was gone! She nearly killed the clown for it but she held back, stopped herself.

As for Dick and Alfred, they... She passed a mirror in the entryway and paused to look at herself. There was a reflection. She could see herself, the flashes of blood smeared over her face. Something animal snapped inside her, a rage she could not control. She flew at the mirror, cracking it, destroying it, crushing the glass in her hands until pieces of the frame were scattered, shards of bloodsoaked glass littered the floor and pooled around her like modern art.The echo of an alto, heavy accent rattled around in her brain like a bomb being thrown, "You will be by my side, child, bringing in the new, better world just as it should be." Ris al Ghul's long black hair framed her sharp features when she leaned down; the stripe of white along the temple the only thing to indicate her age; watching the painful tremors run through Brooke like earthquakes.

"You understand, this is your own doing. If you had joined me willingly, this would not be necessary."

"I will never join you, you pathetic, lunatic!" Batwoman grit out.

"Child, you have no choice! You are most worthy to be beside me! Centuries have passed with none better than you! It is an honor to be so chosen."

The shaking would not stop, her teeth chattering harshly thanks to the shock, "I'll remember that when I drive a wooden stake through your chest!"

Brooke jumped back, startled by the memory. Sickened by the tange of leather, sulphur, sweat, and hemoglobin old and new. It felt entirely to real, too close.

Alfred stood by the door, looking on sadly, his normally perfect uniform drenched in red. Richard stood at the top of the stairs, arms draped over the banister as he watched her, his uniform glistening with blood that pooled at his feet and ran down the steps like liquid rubies.

The wounds on their necks told her all she needed to know. The flashes of memory came together like a patchwork. She had no idea how long they must have tortured her in all those various techniques designed to make her go mad. They told her everything, explained their plans, explained the horrors that awaited her. At the very end, just before they took her life, Nightwing must have found her, but he was no match for a room full of monsters. They planned to bring him in all along, they just never found him. Had he not found her, perhaps he would not have met his end when Alfred did.

The League wanted her but it was her tiny family who suffered. It always ended that way. She should have learned long ago, should have hung up her cowl before it was too late, before she attracted the attention of monsters she could not overpower. She fell into their hands like a toy, pitiful and useless. It was all her fault!

Alfred shifted in front of the door, smiling like he understood but would try to stop her as any father figure might. He always knew her too well. A whirlpool opened around her, sucking her into the tremulous downward swell. She choked on a cry, feeling the rips in her soul just looking into his eyes caused. He looked at her with no less love now than he had when she lunged at him, fangs bared, mind lost to the overwhelming need to quench a thirst. She had been utterly mad, unhinged, frenzied, but that was simply no excuse.

Brooke felt the tear run down her cheek but the sorrow shattering her very soul made it impossible to care amidst her own tattered shrieks.

She. Killed. Them. Murdered. Them. Stole their lives from them, and for what? Thirst? To survive herself? To become a monster?

Brooke vomited violently at the phantom taste of blood in her mouth. Joker was right! She did not want to remember. She had not wanted to remember from the very moment she returned to herself and saw the bodies of those she loved far more dearly than life locked in the small room with their killer. That which she loved most in all the world, her beating heart, her hope, the ground beneath her, they were stolen away. To be reborn, they required everything her mortal soul clung to most to be vanquished, vanquished by her own hand. Alfred had not even struggled, just whispered assurances.

The driver was on the phone, frantically talking to Lucious. She shrieked like the monster she knew she was, rage and pain coiled together as she called to them, understanding they would never answer. In desperation, she made for the large double doors leading to the great outside. The specter of Alfred vanished when she came near, leaving her reaching out to nothing. Well enough, she supposed, since she would not want him to see this.

With a quick twist of the handle, Brooke threw open the doors to behold the sunlight shining down on her. The pain like acid burned against her, stinging her eyes, but she welcomed it. That is until she took note of the lack of smoke, fire, or a body turning to ash. There was pain but even that began to fade, potency slipping away like a cruel joke.

Joker eased the door from her fingers and slid it closed with great finality in the thud of the lock. "I told you, you never take it well."

She remembered Joker too, standing on the other side of another locked door, staring down at her with deeply comprehensive eyes. The blood she was covered in clearly did not bother him the way it would have others, but interestingly enough, as he watched her rocking back and forth, Dick and Alfred clutched to her, he looked sorrowful in a way she never would have anticipated. Her sobs seemed to stir him and draw him in. When he knelt in the sticky congealing red, he had no response but to whisper her name. She just could not remember which name he used.

"Brookie," he guided her from the door and past the still frantic driver, "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way for you. You're a vampire, that's true, but you're also a little fae since I just couldn't let you go. You live off the same thing I do, now, and the kind of glamour that feeds me isn't stopped by banality or human disbelief. So long as there is fear in the world, we will always live, because _everyone,_ adults and children, believes in the boogyman, darling. Their fear will keep us alive forever!"

There was no resistance in her body, she let him lead her like a marionette. "Forever?" She asked hopelessly.

"I told you I'd never leave you, remember? I told you it was forever." He took her up the steps past the vanishing form of Dick.

"You killed Jason," she stated blankly, letting the void swallow emotion.

"Yes." He admitted softly. "And you never forgave me until you forgot what I'd done. "

"And I killed everyone else." Her voice trembled dispute the numb, deadened feeling inside her.

Joker eased her into bed, carefully tucking her in before he climbed in with her, "You didn't mean to. You weren't yourself, they knew that. And you still have Tim, they missed him."

She did not fight him while he positioned her, "Is he safe?"

"Perfectly! They'll never be able to touch him, I promise. I can teach you how to exist simultaneously in both the 'real' world and in the reality of the fae. There, creative ideas and imagination have substance! Thinking something, imagining it makes it real!"

Listlessly, she closed her eyes, "We feed off of fear? So every time I go out as the Bat I just..."

"Get stronger! Yes, that's right! We are some of the strongest fae there are! Everyone believes in the Bat just as everyone is afraid of me in any form that goes bump in the night."

"How did you have a body, then? Is that why your features are so different?"

It occurred to her that she was taking this rather well. Minimal outbursts flowed by calm. She trained long and hard to control her emotions. This was what she worked so hard for? This was fulfillment of control? Why had she ever bothered if this was all she was left with. Alfred never wanted her to spend all her life as the Bat. She never expected it to really cost anyone but her. That was the point of a mask. Foolish notions! Childish ideology!

"Ah, you see, a changeling is a fae soul born into a human body. Early in the human's life, they undergo a magical awakening of the fae soul. Human soul joined alongside the fae soul. When I took that dip in Ace Chemicals, the lines in appearance... blurred between my two selves."

"Everything about you makes more sense now." She decided, allowing herself to be slowly swallowed by pillows and darkness. "Do I look different without a human body?"

"Your other half is that Bat, and believe me, darling, you look _glorious_!"

Why would she care if she looked glorious? She was a monster that broke her one rule and broke it on the people she loved most. Perhaps she could have endured it if it had been a criminal she devoured, but the man that raised her and the son she adopted, there was no possible way to reconcile that. All she cared to do was scream but three was no point. What right did she have to grieve? It sounded like she could not even atone for her sin with her own life. Forever was a horrible prospect, one she doubted she could endure. She supposed she had been defeated on every front, failed in every potential.

Lucious must have known the truth but she doubted anyone else did. How could they know she murdered her own family in order to drain their blood? They would have no idea their so-called darling was a monster any more than they would expect her to hide beneath the mask. A vampire bat. It was Joker's irony if ever she spotted it.

Perhaps if she stopped leaving the house, stopped being Batwoman, she would eventually fade away. She did not care to live anymore, not without them. She had to atone for what she had done even if they would not approve. Joker saved her, she remembered the way he found her. Describing her as shattered must not have been far from the truth, but he should have left her that way. Nothing could make up for what she had done.

Right from the start, she always knew what she would do if she ever snapped. Batwoman could not be allowed to snap. "...or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." She never wanted that. Batwoman had one gun in her possession, and she had it just in case she ever crossed the line. Years before, once Joe Chill was dead, she had stolen the gun from evidence. It always seemed fitting.

* * *

Brooke blinked awake, feeling tired and drained. Her head ached and her jaw throbbed and her body stung. There were cuts and marks on her skin she did not remember gaining. That happened on occasion, she supposed. Wounds were nothing new to her. Expanding her senses, he noticed she was not alone. Joker was curled around her protectively, awake and alert. Lucious was seated in a chair by her bed, hands crossed casually in his lap.

The room was mainly dark but the light in the hall shed more than enough to see clearly. She was more used to darkness anyway. Very little light was really needed. Even for a mansion this size, her electric bill was relatively small. Alfred was always the one to turn on lights or open curtains.

There was a mild memory thumping around in her skull about reacting badly to something. She did recall Joker telling her what he was, extending it to her. It seemed she died and he brought her back. Little wonder why he liked to call her 'sugar plum fairy' now was there? Also, no wonder she always hated it. It was so like that clown to come up with horrible names like that.

"How are you feeling?" That smooth, gentle voice washed nicely over her.

"Tired." She admitted simply.

Joker cooed into her ear, "Don't worry, doll, a night on the town will fix you _right_ up! Promise!" Right, she fed off fear now?

Lucious nodded sagely, "Yes, I think it would be best if you went out, spread your wings for a while, and bring in the usual criminals."

Brooke sat up suddenly, eyes fixed on her friend, "Can you hear him?"

"Of course. And see him." Fox confirmed.

"How?" She narrowed her eyes at first one man, then the other.

"Because, he's more than you might expect, like us... even if he doesn't abide by the same codes." Joker rested his chin on her shoulder.

She pressed her fingers to her temples to alleviate some of the pressure and that feeling that she needed to run. "Because you're a fae?"

"Something like that." Lucious agreed before he stood up, "Go, do what you do out there. It will make you feel better."

Brooklyn hobbled to her feet and made her way to the door, "Remind me... to... call the... boys... later." She stuttered out, her mind hitching in fits over the words. "I need to check on them."

"Of course!" Lucious smiled kindly, "Though Alfred called while you were asleep, wanted to remind you to take good care of yourself while he was away. Made me promise to check on you frequently. He says to remind you to sleep, eat, and be mindful of the usual dust bunnies. I believe he reminded you not to drink to much at your own parties too."

She grinned before she headed to the cave, "Of course he did. He always does. "

Once she was gone, Luscious stood and tucked his arms behind his back, "She's not ready. She's not prepared to deal with the truth or the loss. Humans form extreme attachments."

"Only humans? Seems to me you're pretty fond of her." Joker tapped his fingers against his thigh, "But you lot go in more for the things Batsy believes anyway. Truth, honor, and right!"

"You're the one that couldn't let her go. Living without attachment or regrets doesn't always work, hmm?" With the innate grace of motion, he began to walk away, "Try being gentle with her. You love her, so show it. You're the reason she can never die so you might want to give her a reason to live. Just a thought."

"I'm trying!" Joker snapped, following slowly.

"Maybe you should try reading up on human courtship? Couldn't hurt."

Joker growled and hurried after his Bat. He would always follow her. Forever.


End file.
